


His Or Mine

by Aupple (GiveUpResistance)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Sansa is married to Tyrion, and having an affair with Margaery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiveUpResistance/pseuds/Aupple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa doesn't know how to cope with another Christmas with the Lannisters, and Margaery doesn't understand.</p>
<p>Margaery is all she wants and needs, and she can't leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Or Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Nobody has beta'd this because I wanted to get it out before Christmas, so I'm sorry.  
> I hope you can still enjoy it :)

Sansa stares out the tinted car window as the car slides past bare trees.

"There's still time to turn back," a voice says from beside her, and she turns to look down at her husband. "I could make some excuse, Sansa," Tyrion says, with an almost pleading look.

She knows very well that he’s dreading the coming evening just as much as she is, but the discussion is one that they've already had. "It'll only irritate your father, and he'll make inquiries and your brother may need saving."

Tyrion sighs. "I know the reasons why we must go, Sansa, but I am still hoping for some excuse. Couldn't you at least- throw a tantrum, or something, and refuse to go?"

Sansa smiles wanly at the thought and turns once more to look back out at the passing scenery.

There's no point going to the trouble of getting out of her family-in-law's gathering if she can't spend Christmas as she most wants to.

And that is impossible.

Long fingers tickle the base of her spine and Sansa rolls over, laughing, dropping her book in the process.

Margaery greets her with a smile and a soft kiss. "I thought that you weren't coming today."

"I know, but he's in the city tonight and so I made excuses for both of us. You don't mind, do you?" she asks at Margaery's frown, but her girlfriend shakes her head and kneels on the bed beside her.

"Of course I don't mind, I have you that key for a reason, didn't I?" She strokes Sansa's cheek tenderly, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. "You don't know how happy it made me to see your shoes by the door, as if you lived here."

So that's what is still bugging her, Sansa realises as Margaery begins to talk about her day.

They've been over it a million times, the impossibility of them being together publicly and permanently, of Sansa leaving Tyrion.

The gods know how much Sansa wants it too, but there's no way.

On the days when Sansa can get away safely, they like to spend it together at home, staying as close as possible - once Margaery remarked that it's not as if they can go out, anyway, in case they're seen, and they don't speak for weeks, until Sansa can't bear it anymore and goes back to Margaery's flat and the other woman acts as if nothing has happened, so neither of them mention it ever again.

Cersei, being the bitch that she is, put both Sansa and Tyrion in one room, despite the entire family knowing the situation between them.

Tyrion looked apologetic, but Myrcella bounded in a few minutes after they arrived and hugged Sansa, whispering that she could stay in her room if she wanted.

It's a sweet offer, but Sansa doesn't have the courage. She doesn't have the courage for anything, anymore. It'll take everything that she has to get through the next few days.

"Would you like to spend Christmas with me?" Margaery asks one morning as Sansa is brewing coffee.

"I'd love to," Sansa replies honestly, and too late realises the sincerity of the question.

Margaery is smiling, eyes bright, and her heart breaks as she says "You know I can't, though, the Lannisters-"

"The Lannisters! Always the fucking Lannisters! You can't spend your whole life dancing to their tune, you know!"

The outburst is uncommon for the brunette, but there's tears in her eyes and Sansa sets the jug down hastily and rushes to her.

"I know-"

"I'm sorry," Margaery says, voice still shaky. "I'm being a bitch. But I- I just hate them, and I love you-"

Sansa embraces her tightly and doesn't let go until her lover has relaxed and her own breathing has calmed. "I love you too, but I can't- you know how afraid- and if I left, what the hell could I do?"

"You could always stay with me until you got back on your feet, you know that-"

"I couldn't do that to you."

Margaery opens her mouth again, but Sansa kisses her hotly and pulls her up and back into the bedroom.

Dinner is a quiet and rather awkward affair.

Myrcella occasionally mentions something that has happened recently, and talks to an otherwise-silent Tommen. Joffrey hasn't turned up, and Sansa thanks the gods for it, which is probably why Cersei looks so sour faced. Tywin speaks every so often to his daughter and eldest son, completely ignoring Tyrion and Sansa, not that either of them mind.

Sansa's husband is eating and drinking happily while she picks at her food, still feeling guilty about everything.

“So, there’s Christmas down at Casterly from the twenty fourth to the twenty seventh, and then there’s the New Year’s party, but after that I think Tyrion is going on a business trip-”

“So I don’t get to see you at all over the holidays.”

Sansa sighs. “We’ve been over this. You’re going down to your family on Christmas day and not coming back until the thirtieth, and then that’s mostly because you have to check everything for your brother’s party. There’s no time that would work.”

“I was just hoping that we could have Christmas morning, or something.”

“What, I just say to Tyrion, ‘Oh, you go down without me, I’m just going to spend the night with my girlfriend’?”

Margaery groans at her words. “No, just- I don’t know, okay. Sometimes I wonder what you really want.”

“You?” says Sansa, confused.

“Right, and I want you, but I want you happy, not just mine.”

“I don’t understand.”

Margaery sighs and takes Sansa’s cheeks in both hands. “I want you to be mine, and only mine, but I’d rather you be happy. So I’ll be here, whatever it is that you want, but we both need to know the truth of that.”

Sansa frowns. “You’re not making sense.”

"Do you even want to leave him?" Margaery asks tiredly.

“What? Of course I want to leave him! But you know why I can’t.”

“No, Sansa,” says Margaery. “I don’t know why you can’t. I don’t understand.” She releases her and stands up, running both hands through her hair. “I’m too tired to go over this tonight. But please, just tell me what you want.” She stoops and kisses Sansa’s cheek before turning and walking down the hall.

Sansa is left staring after her, confused and slightly terrified.

They retire to one of the sitting rooms, though Myrcella disappears upstairs soon enough and Tommen runs off after one of his cats.

Tywin and Cersei both begin to read books and her husband raids the liquor cabinet, offering some to his brother, who shakes his head and stares at his phone.

Sansa decides to check her own, but there’s still no messages. She’s heard nothing from Margaery since earlier in the week, when her girlfriend went to sleep without her and she left, and she doesn’t know what to say herself.

Because it sounded like an ultimatum, even if Margaery said that she’d still be there no matter what she chose. And it’s not like Sansa wants to stay with Tyrion - he’s perfectly nice, and has been as good a husband as one could ask for in the situation, she supposes, but she has never loved him and her gratefulness is far outweighed by her love for Margaery.

Margaery is all she wants and needs, and she can’t leave.

The Lannisters frighten her, they always have, Tywin with his cold looks and power and Cersei’s evil smiles and tricks. But what can they really do? It’s not like she has anything that they can take away from her, nothing except for Margaery, and she doubts that either of them would go so far as to hurt her for revenge on their least favourite family member’s wife.

The money is a problem, as it’s all Tyrion’s, but she’d be in the same boat if he decided to cut her off, or if Tywin cut _him_ off, and money only worries her because she doesn’t want to be a burden on her girlfriend.

Without any family, the Lannisters have been all she has had for years - but that’s not true anymore. She has Margaery, and Margaery is worth everything in the world.

“Sansa?” Tyrion’s voice breaks through her reverie and she realises that she has stood up.

“I have somewhere to be.”

“At this time of night?” Cersei remarks in a sarcastic tone.

She looks at her watch and realises that it’s almost ten pm, but she needs to be with Margaery. “It’s important.”

She glances at Tyrion and he gives her a quick smile. “Call if you need anything.”

She runs out of the room, straight to the garage, where Tyrion’s driver, Pod, is already waiting. “Mr Lannister texted and told me to drive you wherever you needed.”

“Isn’t it your night off?”

Pod shook his head. “Mr Lannister wanted a getaway car ready at any minute.”

“Town, then, please.”

The next forty minutes are possibly the longest she’s ever spent, watching the lights of other cars flash past the window as she wonders whether or not to call Margaery. She decides against it in the end, as it will be harder for the other woman to turn her away if she’s at the door.

The car pulls up outside Margaery’s block of flats, where most windows are lit - except for a few, including Margaery’s.

Pod must see her hesitation, as he says, “I could wait for you, Ma’am.”

She smiles gratefully and accepts before leaving the car and quickly runs up to the third floor, where she uses her key to open the flat. It’s completely dark, and she checks all of the rooms quickly, but it’s as she feared, and the place is empty.

Margaery had said, however, that she’d spend Christmas Eve with Renly and Loras, and could have decided to stay the night with them.

She runs back down to the car and gives Pod the address, tries to catch her breath as the car pulls away.

She needs to see her, tell her how she feels for good.

Loras opens the door and groans. “Great. What the hell do you want?”

“I need to see Margaery,” Sansa says, trying to ignore Loras’ attitude.

“Why?”

“I need to speak to her. Is she here?”

“No,” Loras grumbles. “What do you need to talk to her for?”

“Look, I’m not going to tell you why I need to talk to her, I just need to know where she is. I’ve already been to her flat and I know that she’s not there.”

Loras stares hard at her for a long minute before sighing. “She’s gone home to Highgarden already.”

“That’s almost an hour away.”

Loras shrugs. “Tough luck, princess. That’s where she’s gone.”

“Fine.” She made to walk back down the hall, only to turn back halfway. “And thank you.”

“If you break her heart, I’ll kill you.”

Pod doesn’t even ask any questions as to why they’ve been running around the city and now driving out to the family home of the Tyrell’s, which is surprising to say the least.

Sansa almost wishes that he would, because it might take her mind of things and she wouldn’t be getting so nervous.

Somehow she manages to doze off, and is shaken awake by Pod. “This is it, Ma’am.”

The mansion is imposing and enormous, and it takes all of her courage and the thought of Margaery to get her out of the car and into the freezing night air, to approach the door.

She is greeted by a stern looking butler. “I’m looking for Margaery? I’m Sansa, Sansa Stark, and I really need to speak with her-”

The butler shakes his head. ‘I’m afraid that will not be possible.”

“Not be-”

“The family is currently at Church in the village , attending Midnight Mass.”

Sansa checks her watch. The minute hand is sitting right on eleven, and she panics. “Shit- thank you, I’m sorry-”

She runs back to the car. “The village church,” she gasps out. “Go!”

Pod seems to take her hasty words as permission to drive like a demon, but they get to the village in just three minutes, and find the area around the church blocked off by parked cars.

“I can get there from here,” Sansa says, climbing from the car. “Thank you for everything.”

She doesn’t wait for him to go, just pulls off her heels and begins to run along the footpath.

The church is larger than she expected, she realises as she gets close, and there’s no way that she’ll be able to find Margaery in there.

She almost catches up with the last few stragglers entering, only her eye catches someone kneeling by a flowerbed near the entrance, and light from inside catches on the chestnut hair-

“Margaery?”

Her head whirls, a shocked look on her face, but Sansa is already upon, dropping to her knees in front of her.

“Sansa?”

“I love you, but I was scared and silly and worried about security and things but you’re all I need-”

“Sansa, slow down,” Margaery says, and slowly pulls her to her feet.

“You are all that I want, Margaery,” she says, and is rewarded with a slow curving smile. “I don’t care about anything else, I know that now, just you.”

“Are you sure?”

Sansa nods. “I’m a twenty four year old high school dropout, and probably soon to be without a penny to my name. But I’m yours and only yours, if you still want me.”

Margaery laughs and kisses her, joy shining in her eyes. “Of course I want you. I’ll always want you.” She kisses her again, longer this time, through the tolling of the bells.

When they break apart, Margaery reaches up to brush at Sansa’s hair. “It’s snowing,” she says wonderingly, and Sansa looks to see the first flakes falling through the air.

“Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone.


End file.
